


After the Balcony

by embraceternity



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Because that elf cannot catch a break, F/M, Fluff, Like, Solas's POV, Solavellan, Some angst but not really, ar lath ma motherfucker, but despite his own personal angst the fic itself is super fluffy, super fluff, the only angst is from some of Solas's train of thought, third person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 10:30:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3484925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embraceternity/pseuds/embraceternity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Solas kissed the Inquisitor in the Fade, at least it had been somewhat excusable. They'd been in the realm of dreams. It wasn't unheard of to let your mind get carried away with itself and do things that you wouldn't normally consider. There was <i>nothing</i> excusable about his kiss and confession that occurred mere hours ago.</p><p>This story takes place the evening after the balcony kiss scene. Lavellan has the chance to confront Solas about their second kiss, his confession, and find out why he left so abruptly after both were said and done. She has questions, and for once Solas is uncertain about how to approach the answers. Luckily for him, the conversation takes a pleasant turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After the Balcony

The sound of Lavellan's bare footsteps patting across the stone flooring was what broke Solas out of his literary trance. He glanced up from the academic book that he had been reading, his arms still stretched out and leaning against his desk with the book hovering in his hands. He met her gaze from above the book's pages.Her arms were crossed, her weight leaning on one side of her body that balanced itself against the other end of his desk. She appeared as though she was trying to look frustrated and irritated with him – although she failed, due to the small trace of a smile across her lips.

Solas slowly set his book down, still staring straight at her. He smiled politely, cocking his head when she made no attempt to say anything to him. “Inquisitor?” He inquired.

“You,” she leaned forward, her smile forming into a smirk, “have a lot of explaining to do.”

Solas stifled a protesting sigh, glancing away from her to stare at the candlelight next to him. It was true; he did need to discuss what had happened earlier with her. It was a discussion he did not want to have at this very moment. Honestly, it was a discussion he was uncertain he ever wanted to have.

It had been one thing when he broke his composure around her in the Fade. At least then, it was somewhat excusable. They were in the realm of dreams. It was easy to brush off their kiss as something impulsive. In the Fade, it wasn't unheard of to let your mind get carried away with itself and do things that you wouldn't normally consider. Even he, as experienced as he was with lucidly entering into the Fade at will, was prone to the temptations that dreams beheld. Perhaps he could have gotten her to assume that he was merely curious about her, and that his curiosity had gotten the better of him.

His kiss and confession earlier that day, however, could not be so easily excused.

Why he had felt the need to tell her that he had not forgotten about their kiss in the Fade was beyond him now. When she had approached him in his study that afternoon, she had caught him at a vulnerable time. She'd been on his mind that entire day. He’d been contemplating how a soul such as hers could exist so exuberantly in a world where so many things had gone wrong.

He was smitten with her. He had tried to ignore and deny it for some time, trying to convince himself that his infatuation was merely because of the importance she held due of her mark. But the more he had gotten to know her personally, the less he could ignore his attraction to her. Thoughts of her raced around in his head since the moment he'd woken up that morning, and refused to leave him alone for hours before she approached him.

How could a mortal show such a subtle wit and keen eye like she did, despite growing up in a world that's concept of normal had become so corrupt? It eluded him. It fascinated him. _She_ fascinated him.

He was aware that his attraction to her was inappropriate. More so, his attraction to her complicated and hindered his goals for retrieving the orb that Corypheus carried, that was once his own. Once he had gotten his orb back, his mission would carry him into possibilities that would reshape Thedas's very existence. Best case scenario, she would despise him for manipulating her into getting his orb and his other deceptions. Worst case, neither of them would live to see what his actions had wrought.

But his subconscious was not so eager to understand these facts. It didn't matter that she did not know his true identity, or that she had been raised in a civilization that abhorred his ideals and very existence. She was unique, she was beautiful, and he wanted nothing more than to open up and reveal himself to her.

The realization dawned on him; he _loved_ her. He loved her brilliantly inquisitive mind, and her ability to comprehend that the things she had been raised to believe – such as spirits, or the structure of the Veil – had been incorrect. She was strong-willed and determined in her actions. She had been able to face down a man brashly seeking godhood, and could physically walk in the Fade and survive. She was wise enough to know how to break the bindings that trapped his friend, a spirit of Wisdom. Yet even so, she was innocent enough to be there for him while he mourned his friend's death without any sort of ulterior motive. She was something he thought could not exist in this world, and her existence made his all of the brighter.

She provoked something within him, and her intoxicating presence made him continue to act without thinking. In a spur of the moment, he had told her that he hadn't forgotten about the kiss just to revel in the joy that would stretch across her face from doing so. Even when he pulled away when she approached him, half of his intentions were just to see if she would reach out and protest him leaving. When she literally reached out in protest, her touch had felt like static erupting across his arm and into his chest, disorienting him further. All he wanted to do was hold her as close as he possibly could, feel her mouth against his, feel that her spirit and physical being were real and not something fleeting past him like all of the memories and experiences he had encountered in the Fade. Even with her pressed against him, he couldn't get enough of her. She overwhelmed him and made him forget his carefully calculated plans or who he really was. It was too much.

He had been too reckless.

This could not continue. Once they had defeated Corypheus and he finally had the orb back in his possession, he would be gone. There was no future in this infatuation, no matter how seriously it continued to grow.

He glanced back up to Lavellan, meeting her gaze once more. Her eyes were fixated on him, sharp as they no doubt inquired about the inner working of his personal thoughts. Her right hand's fingers strummed against her arm, illustrating that she was impatiently waiting for him to give her an explanation.

For once, he was unsure how to respond. That was part of the reason he had left her on such an abrupt note after their kiss earlier.

“What would you like me to explain?” He folded his hands over his closed book on his desk.

Lavellan scoffed, shifting her weight and rolling her eyes while she pressed her other leg against his desk. A strand of her pulled-back hair let loose and slid across her cheekbone. “How about you start with everything? Ar lath ma? Really? Do you think I don't know what that means?”

Solas's jaw tensed as he furrowed an eyebrow at her. Despite himself, his stomach fluttered as his declaration to her was repeated from her own lips. “I did not assume that you wouldn't understand,” he responded plainly. “You are Dalish, after all. However forgotten the language is among your people, I am aware that you still know some of our ancient tongue.”

Lavellan cocked an eyebrow, clearly unamused at his poor attempt to walk around the conversation. “How long have you known that you've felt that way?” She prodded.

His confession was quiet, his voice barely more than a whisper, “A while.” His eyes continued to meet her gaze.

Lavellan let out a small, surprised breath.

She took a moment to prop herself on top of the edge of his desk. She scooted forward some of his paperwork, giving her space to sit. Her eyes never parted from him as she did so, intrigue dancing around her stare. She leaned closer, reaching her arm out to balance herself. Her hands splayed out not too far from his own, making his folded hands grip more tightly together. Carefully, she followed up her question, “And you truly meant it? Mean it?”

Despite his best intentions, he could feel himself smiling as he looked up at her. “I do.”

Lavellan beamed at him, and his own smiled widened in response. He was a fool, too wrapped up in his infatuation to act clearly, and when she plopped herself down from his desk to walk over and reach for his chin he did nothing to stop her. She turned his chin up to level with her as she leaned down, lightly brushing her lips against his own in a chaste kiss. They stayed there for a moment, lips gently moving against one another, neither wanting to end the kiss but both of them knowing that they still had a lot more to discuss. Finally, Lavellan took a small step back, still smiling at him.

“Well, _ar lath ma_ to you too. But now where does this leave us?”

“I am not sure.” Solas paused, frowning while he contemplated a solution to this predicament that could obviously no longer be ignored. “My feelings aside, I am not sure I am able to promise you anything once we have stopped Corypheus. If we are able to stop him. There is too much at stake for either of us to expect our mutual attraction to blossom into anything long-term.”

“Hmm.” Lavellan pursed her lips while she took a few steps backward, plopping herself down on the couch in the rotunda. She leaned back, sprawling herself into the couch's cushions while contemplating their situation. “That's all true. But see, the problem is that I can't just ignore that I like you. Especially when I know you like me, too.”

Solas chuckled despite himself, turning his chair so that he can face her. He rested his elbows on his lap, slouching forward. “Yes, that is a problem.” Against his better judgment, his tone lowered suggestively, “I don't know if I will be able to look at you as a mere acquaintance now that I know what you taste like.”

Lavellan glanced up the rotunda, and Solas could see her cheeks blushing with a light red. He smirked. “See,” she huffed as she continued to stare upward. “This is what I'm talking about. You can't flirt with me like that, with your voice all sultry, and then tell me that you're not sure you want to actually be with me because of _considerations_.”

“Then what do you suggest?”

“Well, that depends.” She looked back down at him, her cheeks still flushed. The warmth that had been threatening Solas throughout this entire conversation finally overcame him as her honeyed eyes met his again, and he lightly shuddered at the heat she made him radiate. She took the time to tuck the loose strand of hair behind her ear absently, mulling over her own thoughts. “So, you're afraid to be in a relationship with me because you're afraid of what could happen to us long term? As in, one of us dies in combat? The uncertainty of our future?”

“That is partly it, yes,” he said, slowly standing up to walk over to her. He sat himself down on the opposite side of the couch, turning himself to face her. It made more sense not to have this discussion from across the rotunda, potentially echoing up for others to overhear. He relaxed his arm against the top of the couch, and stretched a leg out to where it almost touched hers from opposite ends. “You are now the Inquisitor,” he continued. “Even if we successfully defeat Corypheus, you will have duties to uphold. A title to fulfill.” He paused, briefly glancing away. A subtle moment, but still one he could feel her curiosity radiating from her as she tilted her head in confusion. “Meanwhile, I will go back to my duties as soon as Corypheus is stopped.”

She frowned. “You're sure you won't want to stay with the Inquisition?”

He smiled sadly at her, lowering his head in apologies. “I joined the Inquisition for the moment because we are all in terrible danger. Once the threat is diminished, I have no reason to not resume my own personal course.”

She winced in response, and he realized that she could have taken that in offense. But before he could backtrack and apologize, her resolve returned to her. She reached forward to him, gently placing a hand on his stretched leg. “Your studies in Fade are very important to you, yes?” She asked.

“Yes, they are.”

She moved toward him, her hand still on his leg until she brushed it on to the floor to make way for herself. She sat beside him, propping herself half on top of his thigh and half still on the couch. She leaned into him, putting herself into where his arm had been stretched out on top of the couch, and rested her head against his shoulder.

He stiffened, not expecting to be cuddling with her on the couch so suddenly. Yet his composure softened when she placed her hand on to his chest, nuzzling him with the side of her face, and he gently draped his arm around her. They sat there for a moment, feeling the beat of one another's increasing heartbeats. Then quietly, Lavellan murmured, “I can respect that. What you do is important to everyone.”

Solas hummed in response, and placed a light kiss into her hair without thinking. Her hand on his chest gripped his tunic.

“But what about before we stop Corypheus?” She pressed further, her voice muffled against his shoulder. “What if we didn't plan for the long-run, but we enjoyed each other's company now? There's no reason for us to ignore this when we both obviously want it so bad, and we're both right here. There's no reason to not be together when there's nothing stopping us?”

Solas took in a carefully composed breath, considering her proposition. It was true. Before Corypheus was stopped, there was nothing holding him back from being with her. The offer was very tempting. Yet, even so...

Dating the Inquisitor, no matter how temporary, wouldn't change the fact that he would continue to deceive her. By design, their relationship would be problematic. It'd be unfair to her. He was manipulating her, using her to achieve his own ends. It would break her heart once she found out just how much he had withheld from her – any kind of intimate relationship would not be healthy for either of them.

Yet there she was, in his arm and half on his lap, her hair tickling his wrist as he held her. Her breaths were shallow and hot against his tunic, and her fist against his chest gripped on to one of the strings of his jaw bone pendant. As selfish as it was, he could not seem to stop himself. He acknowledged the fact that turning her away now without any good excuse would hurt her in the end, as well. He had already caused his damage.

He wanted so badly to give into her.

His thoughts turned toward his diseased friend, the spirit of Wisdom. Before Wisdom’s death, they'd spoken to each other about his attraction to Lavellan. There was little that he could hold back from his friend, not that he ever tried to do so. It'd been comforting to have someone that he did not have to lie to and could be completely open with. The spirit of Wisdom had requested that Solas stop hiding his feelings from Lavellan, because it was not wise to bottle up such intense emotions. He knew the spirit worried about him – it expressed as such whenever they spoke, and Cole recently verified that concern when seeping into Wisdom’s old thoughts. It wanted him to be happy. Admittedly, he had not felt truly happy in so long, not with the weight of his actions and plans on his shoulders. Lavellan sparked an intrigue in him that reminded him of the echoes of happiness he'd experienced in his youth.

He had ignored the spirit's wishes in the past, as they'd also discussed the negative repercussions of him giving into such a relationship. Yet, with his friend's death, he couldn't help but want to honor its desire for him to be happy. It pained him that it had bothered the spirit so. Plus, as was often the case with a spirit of Wisdom, he knew how right the spirit was in its concern. It was important to hold on to happy moments, no matter how fleeting.

As long as he and Lavellan established the fact that their future was more than uncertain, he could allow them both the chance to be happy together while they still could. It was enough, for now.

He was aware that he'd been quiet for a while, battling his desire in his own head while Lavellan sprawled out right next to him. He was relieved that she did not seem to mind waiting as he'd contemplated. Her other hand was now tucked around his back, pressed against the couch. Meanwhile her hand on his chest now traced his pendant's leather cord, trailing up and down in unison to her even breaths against him. Only when he gazed upon her now, a small smile forming on his face as his hold around her tightened in conclusion to his thoughts, did she glance up at him.

“There's nothing stopping us,” he said finally. “If we wanted to begin a relationship now, knowing it would most likely only last while we were both in the Inquisition... I see no reason for us to not be together.”

Lavellan's ears perked as she beamed again, a grin flashing across her face. Her hand unconsciously pushed into his chest, making him laugh lightly in surprise. Then before she could respond, he leaned his head forward to hers and their lips met once more.

This kiss was slow and heavy, their mouths lingering as they pressed against one another. There was no rush in this kiss. No overwhelming desire to feel as much of each other as they could before the moment passed, like there had been before. They both took their time, taking in every brush of the lips and thoroughly enjoying the taste of one another's increasingly deepened breath. Solas reached his free hand up to Lavellan's face, brushing back the strands of her hair and cupping her cheek and jaw. Lavellan raised her hand on his chest to dip her arm around his other shoulder, pulling herself up on to Solas's lap completely as she drew herself closer to him. She nipped lightly on his bottom lip, her nose rubbing against his, and Solas responded in kind by licking the top of her lip tenderly. Her mouth then opened, meeting their tongues together, circling against each other before she bit his bottom lip again -- coaxing a low moan out of Solas. His cupped hand reached back to the nape of her neck, gripping the base of her hair as his other arm tightly pulled her toward him. Lavellan shifted her position to face more toward him, placing one of her legs on the couch in between his thighs.

They kissed and kissed, neither one wanting the other to stop. Their actions deepened gradually – more tongue, more teeth, and lips wandering toward one another's jaw or neck. They were lost in each other, their skin ringing with the blushed warmth of mutual enthrallment. Soon, Solas's arms had wrapped themselves around Lavellan's waist, while she was balancing herself on her knees between Solas's thighs to cup both sides of his face.

Snickering from a familiar voice is what finally got the two to stop. Lavellan impulsively snapped her head back, turning to find a leering Dorian turning his nose up at them with a bundle of books in his arms next to the stairwell. Solas looked over Lavellan's shoulder, shooting the Tevinter a glare in annoyance.

“Well, _well._ What _do_ have we here?” Taunting amusement oozed out of Dorian's voice.

Solas let out a barely audible groan while Lavellan whipped herself around to sit back next to Solas's side. Keeping an arm around Lavellan's waist, Solas sharply replied, “Something that is obviously none of your concern.”

“Well _that_ much is obvious,” Dorian scoffed, taking a few striding steps toward the main hallway while still peering at them expectantly. _Like a child_ , Solas thought bitterly to himself.

“Leave it be, Dorian.” The group looked up upon hearing an echoed velvety, Orlesian voice from above at the top of the rotunda. Leliana. The amusement in her voice matched Dorian's despite her protest. “They were just getting to the good part.”

Lavellan let out a heavy, exasperated sigh, waving out her hand as if she was shooing them both away. “Yes, yes. Let's all giggle like twelve-year olds at the Inquisitor's expense. Very mature!”

“You're the ones who began making out in a public location,” Dorian shrugged, still snickering to himself as he exited out of the hallway.

Both of the elves sat next to one another awkwardly for a moment, wary of doing anything else lest there be another interruption. Then slowly, Solas squeezed Lavellan's hip before pulling her back against his shoulder. “So,” he began.

Lavellan glanced up at him, her face still flushed from their kisses and embarrassment. Yet despite their interruption, her eyes glistened with a spark that Solas had not seen in her before. He wondered what that new ignition in her spirit was – love? Devotion? Whatever the case, it made the pit of his stomach flutter eagerly.

Whatever this was between them, it was going to be trouble. He did not even want to begin fathoming the repercussions that would occur from this later down the road. Yet, in this moment, he could not bring himself to care.

 _I love you, Vhenan,_ caught in his throat. It was all he wanted to say to her in that moment, and yet he stopped himself. _Ar lath ma_ had been one thing. Those words held great meaning to him, but were lost on Lavellan even though she understood them. Something about speaking his level of admiration for her in her common tongue made him uneasy, despite it also being the truth. Perhaps he could say it with confidence, in time. For now, just knowing that they cared for each other on such a level would be enough.

“So,” Lavellan repeated quietly, nuzzling her head against his shoulder as she made herself comfortable against him. “If you still have time, I’d like to hear more about what you saw in your exploration of the Fade.”

Solas smiled down at her warmly, putting his head against the top of hers. “I would be happy to share it with you.”

“Tell me about the old memories you found in the Fade?”

Solas gazed out around the rotunda, gathering his thoughts to pick one of his many stories while still distracted by the touch of the woman beside him. When a tale came to him, he slipped into the trance that so often overtook him whenever he told her about his studies. His voice dripping in an iambic pentameter that matched the rhythm of the Fade, he began, “I saw a young Qunari working in a simple kitchen, baking bread as she was ordered every morning. In every loaf, she broke the rules...”

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written because I didn't like how he _ar lath ma_ -ed us, and then...nothing. Unless you take him with you to Halamshiral, we don't get another romance scene until the Crestwood breakup hours upon hours of gameplay later.
> 
> I like to headcanon that they had an adult discussion about how they wanted to be together, and yet not _be_ together. Since they appear to be very intimate and close by the time he takes Lavellan to Crestwood, and yet there's that moment where the Inquisitor struggles to come up with a term for what Solas is to her. As Solas says, "That is the question, is it not?" Solas seems like the fatalistic kind of man who would pull the whole, "we may die from our fight with Corypheus, so lets not plan in the long term" trick to still keep Lavellan at arm's length through out their relationship. Since he's hiding a huge secret from her, and has plans after they defeat Corypheus that (he seems to feel) cannot involve her. And yet, they cannot deny their feelings for each other. Not just physically, but emotionally and intellectually as well. Thus, this fic was my way to spark this agreement. I just didn't like the idea of them never talking about it. Just like I didn't like the idea of them not being goddamn adorable and relationship-y throughout their time in Skyhold.
> 
> (And then when the Inquisitor begs Solas, "Don't leave me, _not now_. I love you." They'd reached a point in their love that she'd hoped that they could stay together. Surely, they were too close now for him to leave after the Inquisition. Poor thing.)


End file.
